Christmases of the Final Variety
by thosedarndursleys
Summary: Arthur has always been a fan of endings, even when they aren't well received.


A/N: This story was written for the first round of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition finals. I, as the 8th player of the Caerphilly Catapults, was tasked with writing about our Keeper's OTP (Arthur/Molly), as well as incorporating juxtaposition and flashback/flash-forward into the story. For judging purposes, the final word count for this story is 1,531, and my optional prompts are as follows:

3\. Advent

7\. Warmth

13\. Tradition

Christmases of the Final Variety

"It's called the Advent," Arthur muttered as he leaned over Molly's shoulder from his place behind the couch. He watched Molly's tiny fingers trace the letters across the page. "It's a reason that some Muggles give for celebrating Christmas—they say that the holidays mark the arrival of their savior."

"Why would they need a reason to celebrate Christmas?" Ordinarily, Molly wasn't overly interested in Arthur's Muggle trivia. She found it endearing, but the details didn't make it onto her priorities list. The heavy book in front of her, though, was curious, and Arthur felt a warmth of satisfaction is chest as she studied it.

"I don't think they're looking for a reason necessarily," Arthur offered. "They really believe it's true."

"It's just so strange, though. How can only _some_ Muggles believe that it's true?"

Arthur rounded the sofa to settle next to his girlfriend. She angled toward him as he did so, and he reached over to set the book on the side table. "Well, only _some_ Wizards believe in the Deathly Hallows." He grinned at her immediate scoff.

"Don't get started on that," she warned, and Arthur thought that the order would go quite well with a wagging finger. "We've somehow fought about those damn Hallows over the last three Christmases. I'm not spending our last holiday at Hogwarts arguing with you over a story in _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_."

"But it's tradition by now!" Arthur flinched as Molly landed a smack against his shoulder.

"No."

Arthur sighed as he reached down to pull Molly's legs onto his lap. They had taken to sitting like this in the evenings, especially when it grew cold outside each year, and the other students left for home before Christmas. Arthur and Molly, however, along with Molly's two brothers, had always stayed behind for the holidays. Molly, Gideon, and Fabian stayed because their parents liked to venture abroad for the holidays, but they always chose to stay home when their children were around. Molly, being the girl that she was, had raved to her parents about the beauty of the Hogwarts Castle at Christmas until they agreed to let her stay. Molly, being the girl that she was as well, had guilted her brothers into staying with her.

Arthur, of course, stayed because Molly did.

He smoothed his hands over her sock-clad feet as she leaned back against the armrest. The cotton was soft beneath his rough fingers; little flecks of blue fuzz stuck to the callous on his thumb, and he smiled as the small pieces of her clung to his flesh. That's the way things had always been with them—Molly, while fiery, was the soft one of the two, and she clung to him fiercely. Arthur watched daily as his selfishness chipped away at Molly's pieces, but she stuck with him anyway. She was ever the cotton sock. He was the pitted callous.

Arthur had always loved socks.

"It's getting dark already," Molly said around a yawn. "Gideon and Fabian should be back soon."

"I think I heard them mention earlier that they were going to the Ravenclaw dorm to work on a new project tonight."

A sigh drifted from across the sofa. "A new project?" Arthur smirked as Molly scrubbed her hands across her forehead. "Is that what they're calling it now? Those boys are going to end up in detention over the Christmas holidays, and it's all going to be because of some stupid prank on Victor Chang."

Arthur shrugged. "It could be worse, you know. They could be drinking or doing drugs or carving tattoos into their skin."

"Tattoos are made with ink, love," Molly chuckled. "You don't carve them."

"Whatever."

The two laughed before settling into silence. Arthur let the air settle for a few moments before speaking again.

"Well, even if you don't want to fight about the Deathly Hallows, we _do_ need to talk." He heard the somberness in his own voice, and he hoped it wasn't too much.

Molly sat up and puller her legs from Arthur's lap. She folded them in front of her as she leaned into the couch cushions.

"What about?" she asked, her nose creasing along with her forehead. Arthur was silent for a moment. He bit his lip and allowed himself a moment to mull over his thoughts. His stomach clenched but he pushed himself forward before he could lose his nerve.

"Molly," he began. "I don't think we should date anymore."

Arthur's ears rang against the thickening quiet.

"I'm sorry?" Molly breathed.

Arthur swallowed and pushed himself backward.

"Us dating—it just doesn't feel right anymore. I can't explain it, but I just don't think I can do this anymore, Mols. It's too hard."

Arthur watched as Molly's eyes filled with tears, and he wished her brothers were there to punish him for putting them there. It wouldn't be the first time.

 _"Molly, please, I'm sorry!"_

 _Molly had already been across the corridor when he said it, and Arthur had doubted she had heard him. Fabian, however, did, and he wasn't feeling the least bit forgiving._

 _"Oh, so you're sorry now, huh?"_

 _Gideon had joined his brother has he drew closer to Arthur, and Arthur tensed in anticipation. The two of them bent on revenge never ended well._

 _"I'm an ass, ok?" Arthur had said quickly. "I was being a prat. I never should have accused her of liking Solomon." The boys had continued to draw nearer to him, and despite being younger than Arthur, the fact remained that they were still quite intimidating. "I'll apologize!" Arthur sputtered._

 _"It seems you already did," Gideon offered._

 _"And it wasn't well received," Fabian added. "But don't worry. When we're through, Molly will pity you enough to take you back. We'll be sure of it."_

 _Arthur had bitten his tongue as the boys pulled handfuls of colored bags and capsules from their pockets. He could have sworn that one was smoking._

 _Why did he have to be such a prat sometimes?_

Presently, Arthur felt like a similar prat as well, if not worse. This wasn't like before—he hadn't accused her of fancying another guy. He had practically rejected her.

"What do you mean? Arthur, things have been fine lately, right? Everything's been fine." Molly unfolded her legs and pushed her feet to the ground. She was up and pacing in seconds. "You haven't given _any_ indication that things were going wrong. You can't just break up with me right before the holidays without even trying to _work it out with me!_ " The part came out as a shriek, and Arthur shot to his own feet to stem the tide.

"Molly—"

"You don't get to just do that to me, Arthur!"

"Mol—"

"We've been together for two and a half years now—"

" _Molly_."

"I deserve better than that!" She huffed. Her voice broke before she could continue, and Arthur stepped forward to take hold of her hands.

"Yes, you do."

Molly's breath shuddered. She kept her eyes focused on the ground, and Arthur's stomach panged for want of her gaze. He sighed and dropped to his knee.

"Molly," he whispered. He let go of her hands and reached for the book on the side table. As her eyes studied the rug, he flipped to the middle of the book. He pulled his gift from the pages before closing the it once more.

"Molly," Arthur repeated. He reached to hold her hand in his, and he held out the book's treasure with the other. "I don't want you to be my girlfriend anymore. I want you to be my fiancé."

The sudden intake of breath was hitched by tears, and Molly's brown eyes flew up to meet his before dropping to the ring between his fingers. Arthur felt as if a clamp had released from his chest. Even without receiving her answer yet, his felt the tension dissipate.

The room was quiet for a moment.

Then:

"You fucker!" This one came out as a squeal as well. She pulled away from Arthur's hand before stepping back. "You damn near broke my heart, you soulless bastard!" Molly scrubbed at her face for a minute before shaking her head. She met Arthur's eyes once more. "What was that for?"

Well, it wasn't quite the reaction that Arthur had foreseen, but the volume certainly exceeded expectations.

He got to his feet, the ring falling to his side along with his hand. "Molly—"

"You're an ass, do you know that, Arthur Weasley?"

Arthur took a fortifying breath.

"I do."

Molly sighed. "Give me the ring, then."

Arthur smiled and stepped closer to the love of his life.

"Really?" He grinned.

Molly rolled her eyes. "Yes, really," she scoffed.

His hands shook as he pushed the ring onto her finger. His chest, once again, expanded with warmth, and he felt a grin overtake his face.

"I hate you, you know." Molly shook her head as she examined the ring, but when she met Arthur's gaze, her smile was as large as his. Arthur leaned in to kiss her and was nearly breathless when he finally pulled away.

"I love you, too."


End file.
